


Let's Pretend

by griftucker



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gang AU, M/M, Undercover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griftucker/pseuds/griftucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to obtain information and items from the notorious Red Gang, Church and Wash must go undercover as a couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally for epsilonchurches on tumblr, but thelemon-isinplay told me I should post it. So here I am, posting it. Enjoy!

Hot and miserable, Wash straightened his bowtie nervously. The air was sticky, warm, and perfumed. Couples milled about, tracing each others arms and breathing down each others necks to stake their claim on their lover. Women lowered their fans and giggled in his direction, and Wash felt lost. It was hardly five minutes before the auction began and Church was nowhere to be found. 

He could hardly remember how he had gotten into this mess.

Four days ago, he was playing cards with a certain group of friends when it all happened. "Hey, Lavernius," a stout, goateed man chuckled into the dealer's ear. "We got a little shipment for your boys. Waiting out back," he murmured, before slipping ungracefully into the shadows. 

Lavernius Tucker, the official leader of the Blue Gang and the unofficial best dealer of cards in the immediate area, grinned. "Let 'em have it."

"Have what?" Wash asked, before he could stop himself. It sounded like a typical rookie question.

Tucker sighed. "Dude. I was trying to be dramatic here. Just...lemme finish this game." The cards went around the table, from a confused but quiet Michael Caboose to an angrily silent Leonard Church (who felt the cards must be fucking rigged), around to a concentrated but losing Allison Texas. The cards hit Wash and then returned to Tucker. As they played, they got less quiet and more angry (save for Caboose, who only grew more confused). 

Wash observed more than he argued, but he took a special notice of Church, who argued with such fervor that he stood and gesticulated, wildly waving around the cards. "Look at this fucking shit, Tucker! I don't believe it just happened that I was given three fucking threes and one fucking deuce. Fuck off!" He tossed the cards over his shoulder and shoved the chair out of the way. 

Wash leaned towards Tex. "Is he always like this?" 

"Only the times he's breathing," she muttered, standing up. 

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Why can't we ever finish one fucking game in this place?" 

"Is it because Church gets mad? I bet it's because Church gets mad." Caboose looked at the table. "I don't like it when Church gets mad."

"Yeah, well no shit. C'mon guys, let's get the shipment." Tucker pushed in his chair and motioned for them to follow.

Wash stuck with Tex. "Hate to ask, but...what's the shipment?" 

Tex gave him a small chuckle. "S'all right. You're new. It's whatever Tucker feels like stealing in bulk. To be honest, it's different every week. Well, kind of."

"Kind of?" 

Tex smiled. "You'll see."

They opened the doors to Tucker digging through piles and piles of pornography with the biggest grin on his face. "Good job, Grif," he said, practically glowing as he smiled at the man beside him.

Wash was stunned. "Did he say Grif? Isn't he one of the Red Gang?"

"Not really. He's our mole. Not to mention Tucker's boyfriend," she whispered into Wash's ear. He was glad to have a friend around to help him get used to the idea of being in a gang. He would have never thought he'd be in this position. 

"Gather 'round everyone. You, too, Church." Tucker called, and they all stood in a tight circle amidst crates and crates of pornography. Church grumbled as he stood up and joined them. Wash watched his body, the way he stood and the way his arms crossed in front of his chest, which still heaved with barely-concealed annoyance. He was surprised when he felt his heart flutter slightly when Church hurled a "fuck off" glance in his direction. 

"Okay, guys. Dex tells me there's some shit goin' down in a couple days. There's this big auction happening with a bunch of stolen goods from the Reds there. There's been some mighty talk about those Freelancer dipshits stealin from the gangs. This is a huge black market event and it gives us an opportunity to take a lot from the Reds. Grif tells me he used one of their guys, Simmons, to siphon some major Red cash into a private account. All of the money can be accessed from this limitless card." Tucker showed off a glint of golden plastic. "It's a real fancy deal, so none of this fuckin around shit. We need professionals."

Tex's chest puffed at the word 'professionals' and Wash immediately shrunk and looked at Church. There was a beat of silence and then Church asked, "What's the catch?"

"Catch?" Tucker looked caught off guard. "There is no catch." 

"There's always a catch." Church raised his eyebrows.

"...It's a couple's auction." Tucker said it quietly. Without realizing it, Wash's eyes had headed straight for Church's and they locked. He couldn't help but turn pink. 

"I'll do it," Wash said, hearing the words come from his own dry mouth but not fully realizing it. "I look good in a suit."

Church gave him a look that Wash couldn't quite read. And then, "I'll do it." They all turned and looked, and he quickly added, "Not like a gay thing or anything. Just takin one for the team, you know." He looked away.

Wash couldn't help but feel disappointed. It's not like he expected anything to happen, but Church's denial was a bit harsh. They received their orders and as they disbanded, Tex put her arm around Wash's shoulder. "He likes you, you know."

...

Tex and Caboose were in the front of the black Dacia Sandero. Caboose was a bit sulky because Church was going with Wash, but after Tex reminded him that he should've spoken up, he got mad at himself and stared out the window, sometimes saying, "Church" dramatically. 

"Are you ready?" Wash turned to Church, cool beside him in the backseat. He was definitely not ready. Sweat clung to the back of his knees and he prayed for his suit. He rotated the golden card in his hand, wondering abstractly just how much "limitless" meant.

"Chuurch." 

"Of course I'm fucking ready." Church radiated confidence and Wash was happy to bask in it, despite what he had said a few days earlier.

"Chuuurch."

"We're nearly there, guys," Tex called from the driver's seat. 

"Chuuuurch."

"For the love of god, Caboose, shut the fuck up!" 

"This is gonna be a fun night," Wash sighed.

...

The cool night air gave too short a relief from Wash's nervous sweat. Stepping into the massive auction hall, Wash and Church were hit in the face with the pungent, heavy air, thick with cologne, sweat, and money. Wash's face was pink and he felt droplets of sweat racing down the small of his back and his calves. Why did I volunteer for this? he wondered, shortly before that question was answered for him. A cool hand slid into his slick one and laced fingers with his. Wash kept walking but dared not move his hand, for fear of Church moving away. He glanced up at the massive skylights, only to be met with a crackle in his ear with Tex saying, "Focus, Wash. Don't give away our position. Just act natural."

He forced a smile onto his face, but it felt more like a grimace. If only Church wasn't pretending...Wash glanced over at Church, who kept walking coolly, not breaking a sweat despite the oppressive humidity. He felt the weight of Church's cool hand and tried to relax. 

Together, they walked hand-in-hand among other couples, all occupied. Some were not-so-discretely making out by the refreshments table, others whispering into their lovers ears, and others still giggling to one another while occupying their legs under the table.

Something's not right here, Wash thought, watching the wealthy couples all but shed their clothes in the hot room. He glanced at Church and felt his chest drop, his heart beating faster at the thought of inching closer and closer until 

Church's mouth was on his and the room seemed silent and still. Wash's eyes closed and his lips trembled and he felt twin cold hands on his face. The world thumped along to their heartbeat as one. Their lips disconnected, the world resumed, and Church rested his forehead on Wash's. Wash kept his eyes closed.

"I wasn't planning on doing that." Church's warm breath sighed onto Wash's damp lips. Wash didn't move. 

Church moved away, slightly embarrassed, and retook Wash's hand. Wash released the air in his lungs and opened his eyes. In his ear, Tex: "Sorry to interrupt your little moment, but I see some Reds headed your way. Might want to move."

They headed towards a semi-secluded table in the corner. "Look, over there. Those are the Reds Tex warned us about." A man dressed nearly head-to-toe in pink was dragging another, slightly embarrassed man dressed to match around the room, introducing him loudly and excitedly to various people. 

Wash chuckled. "Those guys? They don't look like they could hurt anybody." 

Church rolled his eyes. "You'd be surprised how much damage they can inflict by accident."

"Why are they even here?" 

"Did you even listen to Tucker? They're here to reclaim their shit. All of it was stolen by the Freelancers. It's those shitheads who are behind the auction."

"...okay. But, uh, where are the Freelancers?"

"How would I fucking -- oh." 

"'Oh' what?"

"Don't freak out. Just...look up." 

Wash tipped his head towards the balcony on the second floor. Hundreds of sniper rifles were concealed in the folds of the decoration, aimed downwards at the unassuming crowd below. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"What can we do about it? Can we warn Tex?"

"No. The radio is one way. She can see us but not hear us." Church pointed to a flight of stairs to the left and stood up. "I'm going up. I won't be long."

Wash was startled. "No, wait, Church!" He didn't want to sit there alone, worrying about what might be happening. Or worse, get caught in the gunfire because of some stupid stunt Church had pulled. 

Church leaned down and grazed his lips against Wash's. "You'll be okay. I'll be right back." And then he was gone. 

...

Now Wash sat in the sticky room, watching the throng of couples around him. Nothing on the radio from Tex, no sign of Church. Nothing. 

"The auction will begin in five minutes. Please take your seats and have your method of payment available for view on the table." Wash felt his heart sink, looking around for Church. He had been gone a good ten minutes. What could be taking him so long?

...

Church had taken out the Freelancer douchebag by the door with a kick to the nuts and a slam to the thinker and swapped clothes with him, leaving the guy out cold in the bathroom. It didn't really work the way the movies showed it would. This guy was two sizes too big for him, and he had to keep hiking up his pants. Either way, he had to work to get back to Wash before too long. He speedwalked past many of the other Freelancers, who nodded at him in acknowledgement. He found the fastest way up to the roof was...a set of stairs. Easier than anticipated, but Church didn't mind. 

He almost missed the Freelancer walking down those stairs. He waited until she had reached the bottom before elbowing her in the gut and 

getting punched in the face? Church was knocked down by the Freelancer's blow in surprise and jumped up, only to be smacked down again. "What the fuck!" 

"Church?" The Freelancer pulled off her mask and

"Tex?! What the fuck!"

"Church. There's way too many of them. We gotta get out of here. Caboose is in the car."

"Tex, we can handle it! Wash is down there!"

Tex just shook her head. "Church, this is bigger than us. There's so many up there. Eventually they're going to be alerted by their missing people. We only have under fifteen minutes."

"What about the Red goods? Fuck, Tex, I just want to finish a job completely for once, instead of fucking shit up all the time."

"Look, Church. There's a time and a place for drama. And this is neither. Go get Wash and calmly leave."

Church didn't want to argue with Tex anymore, so he nodded and turned away, checking his watch as he walked. Fuck, three minutes before the auction? How long had Wash been alone? He jogged so as to not attract too much attention from the Freelancers he was currently among.

...

Wash observed the couples sidling up to one another two minutes before the auction began. He thought dully that Church might have just left him. He glanced at the golden card lying on the table and had an idea.

...

Church chucked enough of the Freelancer gear to look presentable on the ground and walked through the doors, directly in front of the table where Wash

was not sitting. Where was he? Did he give up and go? Church looked around, scanning the room for Wash's unmistakable figure. He spotted him across the room, talking with a man wearing a long, diamond earring and a woman with her hair precariously stacked. He noticed the glint of the gold card and his eyes widened. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Wash, no." I can't believe Tucker didn't tell him that card was fake. 

...

"So, you see, ma'am, this golden card will buy literally every item on this list," Wash explained, and the woman crossed her arms. Uh-oh. 

The earring guy took a step forward. "Do you have anyone with you? The rules clearly state you need a date. We don't want any of those crazy single billionaires around here. Or anybody looking to score some sugar daddy."

Wash's left hand was filled with a familiar coolness. Their fingers locked and Wash's palm was squeezed affectionately. "I'm right here," Church announced, looking at the earring guy, who paused. 

"Do you confirm that this golden card is...infinite?" The lady raised her eyebrows whenever she spoke.

Church hoped they couldn't hear him swallow. "Absolutely." 

"How long have you known one another?" She asked suspiciously.

"Five years, eight months, and six days!" Wash chirped, overplaying it. Church wanted to smack him. 

The woman smiled and seemed to buy it. Church wanted to kiss him. 

Then she rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, but it is impossible for you to buy things this way. Even if I believed you --which I don't-- we still promised these disgustingly wealthy people an auction, so an auction they shall get." The woman smiled coldly and turned, walking away as fast as her six-inch heels would allow. The earring guy grunted and followed her. 

"Great. Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Church groaned. And then the alarms started going off.

...

Freelancers swarmed from every direction. "Please do not panic. Remain seated until you have been cleared." Wash started to sit before Church yanked his sleeve and pulled him towards the door. Still wearing Freelancer gear, Church would easily be picked out of the crowd. At least this way, there was no overwhelming dread.

"Church what are you --" Wash was pulled into a supply closet. Apparently this door was not the exit. Eight suits of full Freelancer gear hung waiting to be used. 

"Quickly. Get dressed." Church was already pulling off his huge pants. Wash paused, staring. "Come on!" 

They were all covered but for their helmets when the door opened. Before Church had time to think of a diversion, Wash pulled him close into a sloppily passionate kiss.

"Aw come on, you guys. There's loads of time for that. But we're trying to catch the dudes who took out Gary and Michelle." The door closed and from the other side could be heard, "Honestly, I never thought I'd be admitted into the world's horniest crime organization." 

They stood, breathing hard, in the near full dark of the supply closet. "That was close," Wash breathed, pulling on his helmet. Church wanted to kiss him again.

...

Caboose sat in the car, thinking hard. Tex had said Church was in trouble, and to stay in the car. He moved his feet a little. But if Church was in trouble, it was his duty as his best friend to go and save him. Tex didn't say not to do that. 

He smiled as he got out of the car. He loves to help Church. 

...

Wash and Church walked out of the supply closet fully dressed like Freelancers. The whole place was empty, save for a few Freelancers milling about.

"Now what, genius?" 

"We gotta get to the supply where the Reds gear is. Where did Tucker say it was again?"

"Man, you have got to start listening. It's in the back." 

They both started strolling towards the twin doors leading into the stock room.

...

After kicking a whole lot of ass, Tex finally arrived at the car. "Caboose, are they--"

Caboose's seat was empty. "Goddamn it," she groaned, turning back towards the side exit to the hall. If you want something done well, you gotta do it yourself.

...

The room was void of Freelancers. "Well, that was easy," Church exclaimed. Wash furrowed his brow and looked around. He didn't exactly know what they were looking for. There didn't seem to be anything around.

The door creaked behind them, and they both whirled around defensively. 

"Well hey there! Did you guys really think you could steal our secrets?" The man dressed entirely in pink sauntered in, a big smile on his face. He tsked and put his hands on his hips. "Silly boys!"

Wash and Church looked at one another in confusion before more of the Red Gang piled in. A large, greying, bearded man with a perpetual scowl on his face preceded a beaten-looking man also dressed in pink with a sarcastic looking man dressed in brown. Behind him was a frowning 

"Grif?" Wash's eyes widened. "What are you--"

Grif's hands were tied behind his back. A regulation-haircutted man who looked to be on the verge of tears held an unsteady gun to his head.

"You see, bluediots, we found out that Grif here's been backstabbin us and stainin the beautiful reputation of us Reds," the bearded man semi-shouted, gripping a shotgun in his hands. "I always knew something was off about that boy." 

"Oh, really? And who are you?" Church sputtered angrily. He hated getting caught off guard and he felt he should've seen this coming.

"You can call me Sarge. This is Doc," the embarrassed one dressed in pink, "this is Simmons," the blubbery one in the back, "this is Donut," he said, indicating the flamboyant one dressed in bright pink to match Doc. 

"...Donut?" Church and Wash snickered together. 

"Shut up, blueholes. This is Lopez. And you already know Grif." Grif attempted a wave behind his back, but only flapped his bound hands at them. "I fed Grif here some falsified information to get you guys here. And now that you are," Sarge hefted his shotgun. "It's time for --"

"Chuuuuuuuuuuurch!" Caboose hammered his body through the Reds, who scattered for cover among the boxes. He ran over Simmons, who knocked his head against the doorframe and passed out. Grif fell and wriggled to safety.

Church and Wash dove behind a crate together just as the shooting began. Caboose ran past, yelling, "Church! Church!" He turned and smiled. "Oh, Church, there you are! I have been looking all over for you!"

"Get down, Caboose!" Church yelled, and Caboose promptly did so, smiling. Lopez, Donut, and Sarge were all shooting in various directions and yelling. Doc was just running in circles screaming, and Simmons was out cold in the doorway.

"What should we do?" Wash asked. 

"I don't know! We don't have any fucking guns!" They both looked at Caboose, who looked at the floor. 

"Yeeeah, we have guns. In the car."

Church brought his hand up and squeezed his forehead. "Alright.  
Okay. What we gotta do is--"

"YEAH, BITCHES!" Crashes and grunting and rapid gunfire followed the yell. 

Three heads poked up from behind the same crate and watched as Tex slammed one Red into another, the ground, the walls, the ceiling. She left them all groaning in a small pile and turned. "Didn't want to help?" 

Church swallowed. Wash slowly shook his head. Caboose stood and started clapping. "Congraduladions for Taxes!"

They all stood looking at him until a small "uh, help?" reminded them of Grif.

...

"Dude, I can't fucking believe that was a setup. I dressed up for you." Church was standing in the small kitchen of the Blue Base in his socks, shorts, and t-shirt, leaning against the fridge and smirking. Wash could not help but think of sliding his hands around him.

"I know. You looked good." Wash turned and sat at the table before his thoughts led him any further.

"Duh." After a moment, "You really think so?" 

Wash turned in his chair. "Duh." He grinned, and Church returned the grin. He gently pushed himself off the fridge and leaned down to kiss Wash. Wash brought his hand up, resting it on Church's shoulder and turned to better kiss him.

Wash pulled away for a brief second. "Wait, you're not still pretending, right?"

"Not for a second." 

Wash smiled. "Perfect."


End file.
